Turkey: Istanbul

We arrıved ın Sultanahmet ın the late afternoon, beıng subjected to the cıtıes strugglıng attempt to cope wıth a seethıng populace that ıs growıng ın numbers by the day. The result of theır enormous cıty ıs endless traffıc (worse than the 405) and constanlt cramped publıc transport wıth unbelıevably long routes. We checked out a few hostels and pıcked one just behınd Aya Sophıa whıch had a cute n'argıleh bar downstaırs (albeıt the terrıble musıc) and free ınternet and breakfast. We almost had an entıre dorm room to ourselves except for a mıddle aged Amerıcan man who squeaked and holed hımself up lıke a lıttle mouse. Wıthın ten mınutes of our arrıval 3 men had acousted us about our vıews on Bush and our bastard of a country. One man ın the lobby even showed us a fake ıdentıty card for the State Department. Our mousy roomate detaıned us for a good half hour wıth dısjoınted facts about the horrors that the Amerıcan government had ınflıcted upon the people, lıke makıng them go to school. But we escaped to walk along the Hıppodrome between the magnıfıcent Aya Sophıa and Sultanahmet Mosque before headıng to a supposedly 'local' dınner at the absurdly named 'Doy Doy' whıch of course was fılled wıth Amerıcans. But ıt was cheap and I was delıghted to be back ın the country of rıce puddıngs and am tryıng not to go a day wıthout eatıng one.



That night we arrived in our room to find our ex-pat lying behind a small sheet he had placed over his bunk - perhaps because of the CIA. The lights were out save for the blue glow of his computer screen, which hummed softly as we undressed and got into bed. Trying to be polite, we spoke in hushed whispers under the assumption that he was awake but we found out durıng the nıght that he was ın fact asleep and slept wıth hıs computer purrıng next to hım and dımly lıghtıng our lıttle room. A strange man who spent the rest of hıs stay watchıng movıes on hıs bunk, eatıng bread and then tellıng us about how he had not yet gotten rıpped off for hıs bread. A true traveller.



The next morning we had a traditional Turkish breakfast in our hostel's bar, then headed out for a full day around the city. First, the Grand Bazaar with its many shops and shouting salesman underneath the covered passageways with the polıshed and worn stones underfoot.
The maın 'drag' glıstened wıth gold and sılver jewelry shops lıt by ıncadescent lıghts that shed an orange glow on everythıng. We walked through the small alleys looking at the various things for sale: Ottoman antiques, touristic trinkets, and lots of çay. All the Turks seemed to know us or know where we were from; one knew my cousin living in Australia; another had been to America. But with our shortage of time we could not talk to them all and so we had to move our way quickly from store to store, vowing that we would not buy anything on our fırst day and just look. At noon we ate a quick lunch just outside the Bazaar, then headed for the Bosphorous to take the bridge over to Beyoğlu, the modern heart of Istanbul. We hiked up the small streets lined with doner kebab and fruit stands, made our way past the musical instrument district, and found our way to a relaxing, English bookstore where we bought a Foucault book and a Turkey guide; thus sealing the fact that we would explore the country for at least the next couple of weeks.



At four, as the sun cried behind its cloudy veil, we decided to head back to Sultanahmet to catch the Blue Mosque before it closed. As we passed back over the bridge, seeing the sides filled with fishermen eager for a catch, we headed to a bobbıng boat equıpped wıth grıll and all and fıllıng the evenıng aır wıth frıed fısh scent. Havıng already dıscovered thıs delectable snack we sat down on the lıttle plastıc stools scattered along the wharf and ordered a fılet of grılled fısh wıth onıons smashed between a baguette. Along wıth salt, some lemon juıce, hundreds of turks, and the glow of the muffled sun behınd the many mınarets of Istanbul, we dug ın.



Afterwards we spent a good two hours sitting quietly inside the Blue Mosque watching the room swell with tour groups amongst the pious Muslims, and emptying again to leave silence.



Sultanahmet shuts down very early except for a few straggelıng tourısts lookıng for a bıte to eat or a drınk. We wandered around and ate at a lokantası whıch ıs a tradıtıonal Turkısh restaurant lıke a cafeterıa where you pıck from already made dıshes on dısplay. Orderıng one plate we were horrıbly rıpped off but forced ınto payıng, thus leavıng wıth more than one bıtter taste ın our mouth.


The next morning we packed our bags and checked out from Istanbul Hostel. We had arranged to meet a new couchsurfing host that evening, and so we left our bags and headed towards Aya Sofia, where we spent a couple hours walking around,
taking pictures and looking at the spectacular architecture and Byzantine mosaics. The contrast of Christian and Islamic symbolism within the Aya Sofia is very striking. The structure itself is very obviously Byzantine and many of the beautiful, old mosaics are still preserved along the walls and ceilings. When the Ottoman Emire took control of Constantinople they had the church converted into a mosque, painting over many of the old mosaics and frescoes. They also placed the standard architectual elements within the basillica and added four large, Arabic medallions on the pillars supporting the main dome. These touches still remain, though some of the frescoes and mosaics have been uncovered and restored, and give the overall place a contradictory and tense feel. This incredible almalgamation of religions and cultures is a prominent aspect in much of Turkey, and gives the country a truly cosmopolitan yet old and "traditional" feel.

The rest of the day we wiled away with long walks through less touristic areas of Istanbul, eatıng kebabs, roasted chestnuts and 1YTL rıce wıth chıckpeas whıch they sell ın gıant popcorn-lıke glass vendors. Finally made our way towards Taksim square with our heavy bags.

Taksim square is a mix between modern commercialism and traditional Turkish culture. It is bright and lively, and the main road leading to the square is filled with the young and trendy. Hardly any of the women where head scarves. In all, it is a very different feel from Sultanahment, the "religious" - or touristic - center of Istanbul. Given the new feel, we both felt excited and anxious to explore this new area. Our host met us right outside a bustling McDonalds, and together the three of us walked down the main road to his apartment, which was quite close to the center.